Monthly Archives: May 2016

Conversations With my Mother-in-law

Mom:  So what’s new?
Me:  Not much. Oh!  I entered my short story in another contest, so wish me luck!

Mom:  That’s exciting!  Good luck!

Me:  If I happen to win first place I’d have enough money to publish my novel!

Mom:  (smiles and nods)

Me:  OR…buy a LOT of booze. I haven’t decided yet. 

Mom:  (blank stare)

Either A. She didn’t think I was funny, or B. She was planning an intervention. 

I’m not sure…

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“Ever Dance With the Devil in the Pale Moonlight?”

No, but I danced with Old Man *Billy, and that was pretty much the same thing.

I’m not a dancer by nature.  I mean I can dance, but I don’t, because it scares the animals and I usually just end up looking like this…

blower

So I’m in a karaoke bar, sitting with my friend Colette while our other friends were out on the dance floor swaying to the slow music.

Billy was an older guy sitting across the room with his buddies, and he’d developed a crush on one of the girls in our group, who by the way, had the patience of a Buddha.  When the slow song came on Billy ran frantically to ask her to dance, but it was too late as she was already dancing with the guy she was there with.

I looked up in time to see his sad, wrinkled face fall with disappointment.  He hung his head and went back to his table.

A moment later he approached me and Colette and asked if either of us would like to dance.  I froze like a bimbo in a horror movie.  Colette was the first one to shake her head no, and if I remember correctly…pointed in my direction.  He looked at me, with hopeful bloodshot eyes, and I didn’t have the heart to send him back to his friends having struck out three times.

So I smiled and took his outstretched hand.  He held me appropriately with minimal body contact, the way a father would, and we swayed to the music.  As we spun, Colette came into view and I glared at her, trying to push her off her chair with the power of my mind.  It didn’t work, in case you’re wondering.

“I’m Billy.”  He says.

“Lisa.”

“It’s nice to meet you.  I’m sorry about the cigarette.”

Wait, what?  He had a lit cigarette in the hand at the small of my back.  I panicked as I realized this had turned into a freaking hostage situation.  This is how I was going to die, I just knew it.

“Oh.  It’s…”

“I’m drunk.”  He interrupted, his breath smelled like alcohol.

Lucky for me the song ended quickly.  I took my hand back and he said “Thanks for the dance.”

Only when he said it, he spit all over my face Daffy Duck style.  A few drops even got on my lips.

Dammit, Billy!

I stood still with a smile frozen in place, trying not to have a panic attack.  My heart was palpitating, my chest tightened to the point I couldn’t breathe and I didn’t want to move my lips in case I would accidentally smear it in.  I sat down and felt the spit drying on my face…I could actually feel the hepatitis setting in.

My irrational fear of germs kicked into high gear, so I ran to the bathroom.  I went to the sink, emptied the entire bottle of soap into my hands and washed the shit out of my face and lips.  I thought about gargling with the soap, but then figured that might be a little extreme, and I’m not one to take things to an extreme.  Hahaha…haha…ha…Ahem.

Anyway.

I was looking in the mirror at my beard of bubbles, plotting revenge on Colette and her pointy finger, when I rinsed and realized I had no way to dry my face aside from the blow dryer stuck to the wall.

I cupped my hands to direct the air up to my face and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  My hair was blowing back like those rock stars on the TV.  So I started whipping my head around like some kind of head banger, and got busted by a poor girl who just wanted to pee.  I’m pretty sure she thought I was having a seizure, I don’t know…she looked scared.

As it turns out, bars aren’t really my thing.  Also, I have got to learn to be more assertive.  No.” Lisa.  It’s not that hard.  Next time, just  freaking say “No.”

Thanks for stopping in to read my rant!

 

*Name has been changed.

Never Sing a Porno Song With Strangers

I know this advice should go without saying, but you’d be surprised at the awkward situations I can get myself into.

I was invited out to karaoke, which I haven’t done in years, and it sounded like a great idea.  I only knew three of the eight people there.  But then I was informed that two of the girls I didn’t know follow my blog, so they were pretty much instant family.

It was a great time, drinking and laughing…nothing awkward until…

A gentleman that works with my friend stopped in for a drink.  He and I had never met before, or even been formally introduced.  It turns out he also likes to karaoke, so my gal pal Roxanne suggested we sing a duet.  She put in “Summer Nights” for us, and the DJ asked if we could do the “dirty” version.  I had sang a “dirty” version of this song years and years ago…it said “f**k” and one line was changed to “Wonder who, she’s doing now.”  So sure we could, we’re all adults here.

We stood on that stage, with microphones in hand and a million eyes on us.  The words that came up on screen were words no Catholic girl should ever utter out loud.  So I sang them with the stranger my friend works with.  I had never heard this version before.  Seriously, look up the lyrics and picture me on stage trying not to cry.

After what felt like five hours, the song finally ended and we walked back to the table, both staring at our drinks.  After a few moments, he broke the silence.

“Did you know it was going to be that dirty?”  He asked, leaning in a little.

“No!”  I shook my head.  “I thought it was going to say ‘f**k’ or something.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t look each other in the eye.”  I suggested.

We both went back to drinking.  We didn’t interact again until I left.  I said goodbye to the group, and he and I knuckle bumped.

“It was nice to meet you.”  I said.  “And to sing a pornographic song with you…”  My voice trailed off as I was unable to look him in the eye again.

It was an embarrassing situation that should never be spoken of again.  So I thought I’d share it with you.

If You Can’t Say Anything Nice…

 

I have nothing nice to say today because I’m pissy.  It turns out the world does not revolve around me.

So instead, I’ll leave you with some photos of my happy place.  A place I’d give my left nipple and all ten dollars in my bank account to be at right now.  Ole Smoky Moonshine Holler in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.